


The Fire In Your Veins

by retrolily



Category: Dark Knight Rises (2012), Tom Hardy - Fandom
Genre: Betrayal, Developing Relationship, F/M, Friendship/Love, Intrigue
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-08 06:40:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1129506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/retrolily/pseuds/retrolily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bane survives and is now living low-key in Africa. Natalie, an American visiting Morocco returns a mask to an injured Bane. Unexpectedly she ends up staying with him and learns his story...and that there is more to this man than meets the eye.</p><p>...but an evil is brewing over the horizon...and he has to face a truth he chose to forget.</p><p>The League never dies.</p><p>Deep in the shadows is someone burning for a war. All though Bane never succeeded , there is someone who wants his title...as the one, risen from darkness...</p><p>That person hides in the shadows...plotting the death of a man deserted and alone.</p><p>One thing to always remember about Bane...the shadows belong to him and that he is never truly alone</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: The End

PROLOGUE: The End

My forehead was laced with tiny beads of sweat. I squirmed around on the cold concrete floor, contemplating whether or not I should stand or stay where I was. I had the chance to run, I wasn't chained anymore, but I couldn't be certain of what I would run into.

Ivan had gotten rid of the doors. _To make it easier_ , he had said with a smirk.

 _He wouldn't_ , I thought. _He couldn't_. Did he really think I was capable of something so devious?

I could stay and find out...or I could take my chances and run. If I was caught running...that would make my motives look questionable, but did I really care?

I could try to explain to him that it isn't true...what Ivan told him was all lies. I had never even heard of The League of Shadows before today.

I could try to explain, but I couldn't be sure he would bother to listen. I thought about it. Would Bane really kill me without a second thought?

I came to the harsh realization that I didn't truly know who this man was. I only thought I knew. I knew some things because of what he had told me, but according to Ivan they were just versions of the truth.

...but could he kill me?

Of course he could. I couldn't deny that I haven't sensed the anger coursing through his veins. Beneath the mask was years of pain and hurting that I couldn't even begin to imagine. His mutilation and scars were proof of this. A man like him had a reason to be hateful...distrustful.

He shouldn't have been able to trust me so easily, but he did...and if he thought that I had betrayed that trust...

I thought about the first time we met. The things I said, how I acted. In only a few short months of knowing him, he allowed me to enter his world. He told me things... I got him to open up to me and then I was whisked away to be part of some scheme I had nothing to do with.

He shouldn't even be coming here...there were more important things to worry about that my supposed betrayal...because not too far away, there were men that wanted him dead.

Even though, the man who might be coming to kill me was on his way, I still didn't want anything bad to happen to him.

My body shook frantically. If I wanted to leave, it was too late now. I heard heavy footsteps making their way towards me. I could hear muffled voices, two of them I recognized... then only one set of footsteps. He had sent the others away.

As the steps drew closer, I closed my eyes and tears streamed down my face. I also couldn't deny that I loved him.

They came to to a halt. I warily opened my eyes and looked up to see the figure standing before me. Then, I looked up and met his eyes.

 _He wouldn't hurt me_ , I thought for the last time, though I would just have to wait and see.


	2. Awful & Beautiful

**Tahla, Morocco**

The sun was about to set. It was dulling, but blazed brightly in its last hour. I was a long way from home and needed to get going before it became dark, I had at least an hour..

I lived near the countryside which wasn't that wealthy. It wasn't the poorest, but it wasn't full of bars and buildings either. It's inhabitants were mostly foreigners like me...who were looking for something different. They could have visited the large cities and the nightclubs and all that cool stuff, but that wasn't what they were searching for. They could see all that at home. I'd seen all the beautiful sights and been on the cool tours, but that wasn't enough. Like me, they longed for something simple. Something that could be awful and beautiful all at the same time.

The markets and shops were still pretty far from me...about 30 minutes walking. My teal headscarf blew softly in the wind. Covering your hair wasn't mandatory here, but I didn't want to stand out too much.. I also wore long flowing skirt that matched it. I wore white short sleeve shirt but, I still looked very "American", maybe it was due to bright blue eyes and fairly pale skin. Either way, people still treated me differently. It also wasn't mandatory to cover yourself up, but if you had any sense you would... especially where I lived. I hated drawing attention to myself anyway.

Beads of sweat laced my forehead clinging brunette strands to my face, but I was only focused on getting home. I picked up some rice, some spices, some fruits and a few vegetables to take home. I only knew enough Arabic to get the essentials like clothes, food, etc. I also knew some French. I stuffed the paper bag into my knapsack so it would be easier to carry. I lifted my right arm to wipe my now sticky forehead. My bracelet got caught in a strand of my hair.  
Instead of being careful, I yanked it along with the hair.

I could get over the pain.

* * *

 

**6 Months Ago**

**Lansing, Michigan**

_Four years. I spent four years of my life studying and going to school. I grew up learning that going to university was the next step forward in life...that it would lead to greater things, but now that I had graduated I felt like I was back where I started. I was confused about what to do with my life. I majored in English and minored in Art, but so what? Did that mean that once I had graduated I would have every thing figured out? Of course, not. I just did what was expected of me. Now that it was over, I was left to figure out the rest._

_So right now I was making money...working as an intern for a magazine. It wasn't bad, but it paid the bills and still gave me money leftover to do with as I pleased._

_It was late December and I was wandering the streets. Through one of the shop windows something caught my eye. I entered the store to get a closer look. I saw one of the most glorious paintings I had ever seen. It was a portrait of a women belly dancing. I stopped to marvel at it._

_"Um, excuse me? Did you paint this?" I asked the middle-aged, dark-haired woman behind the counter, who was flipping through a newspaper._

_She laughed. "Oh no..no. I wish. It was done by a famous Arabic painter."_

_I traced my fingers along the texture. "Is it of a real person?"_

_"No. She got inspiration from a dancer she saw. Everything else is from her own mind I guess."_

_"She was visiting Morocco when she did it," She continued._

_"Wow. Have you been?"_

_"Yes, many times."_

_This one over here was painted by her as well. She walked me over to a painting of people walking through an alleyway of odd-shaped houses with colourful walls. They looked happy._

_"It's not as glamorous, but it is real," She noted._

_"I think its lovely."_

_"Yes," she agreed, before leaving me and walking over to greet a customer._

_I looked at the clock hanging on the wall. I had to hurry if I wanted to get lunch and be back to work in time._

_After helping the customer, she realized the door wasn't shutting and was letting the cold air. She went over to close it. On her way she knocked her newspaper from the counter-top._

_"Oh, I got it." I bent down to pick it up._

_She struggled before finally managing to pull it closed._

_"Here you go." I looked at the headline before giving back to her. **Gotham's Recovery After Months of Hell**._

_"Did you hear about this?" She asked me._

_"Uh, no." I smiled innocently. I didn't pay attention to news anyway, especially about Gotham, considering the last few years. I didn't even own a TV. I just wrote on my laptop most of the time. I would occasionally hear about the news from my over-excitable mom. She couldn't wait to educate me on something I knew nothing about._

_I glanced at the large painting once more. The dancer was seductive and beautiful, but she looked like a confident woman...who could go wherever she wanted...wherever her feet took her, without being afraid to try something new._

_The woman walked back over to the counter. "It's wonderful. You should visit." She added._

_"Pardon me?" I asked taking eyes off the painting._

_"Morocco." She said. "Visit. Take pictures. Even to live... while you're still young. You might not get the chance again."_

_I headed for the door. "I'll think about it." I smiled as I opened the door and stepped out._

_"Maybe you'll find something unexpected," She said before the door slammed shut._

* * *

 

**PRESENT**

My judgment must have been wrong because when I glanced at my watch it was almost 8 PM. The sun was completely gone and the sky was a deep dark blue. I held tightly to the straps of my bag and quickened my pace.

I turned a corner and that's when I saw a group of three men huddled around in a circle. Great, I thought as I turned for the other direction.

After yanking my bracelet from my hair, it must have come undone because when I looked at my other hand it was gone. I turned back in the direction I was heading to see it glistening in the night by the corner.

 _Be quick_ , I told myself. _Don't even look up_. I ran and grabbed it from the ground, stuffing it into a zipper pocket. I didn't want to look up, but I did anyway.

A man lay on the floor in front of them. They were shouting and beating him mercilessly. One of them ripped something from the man's face and it fell to the ground. He let out a loud cry. It looked like some strange type of mask.

I couldn't understand what the men were saying because of how fast they spoke. Why were the beating him in the first place? He looked weaker than them so I assumed he hadn't started it. What kind of person would pick on someone weaker than them. He wasn't even strong enough to get off the ground.

The man who was being beaten, kicked the mask to try to get it away from the men. This angered them even more, but they didn't bother to go pick it up. They continued to kick his body. He seemed more concerned with his face though. He desperately tried to keep it shielded.

The mask then rolled in front of me. Still hidden in the shadows, I thought, Should I take it? I knew that when the men were finished with him, they would take the mask and he would never get it back. I didn't know what the mask was for...but I assumed it was important to him. When the men ripped it from his face, it seemed painful. Suddenly, the man was kicked in the abdomen and I flinched as he let out a painful moan.

I had decided. I quickly grabbed the mask, then ran back to my hiding place, then moved back a little further. I stuffed it in my knapsack as well. After the men were done with him, they left him on the ground. They searched for the missing mask. I didn't know much Arabic, but I knew they were looking for the mask.

The man who was beaten, quickly limped away as the men tried to find it. I stayed hidden and followed the wounded man.

 


	3. Something Else

I followed behind him for about fifteen minutes. I don't know why I didn't try and catch up with him, I just didn't. I mean, I could have because of how slow he was. I watched him limp towards his house. It was the last house at the end of the street. It was two stories, but not as old as mine. It was all by itself, the closest houses being at least 15 miles away.

I stopped a few metres down the street, contemplating what I should do next. I watched him unlock the door and go inside.  
I didn't want to knock on his door right away. He was hurt and tired and would probably be ashamed once I showed up. I considered leaving it on the front steps, but something urged me to go inside. I waited on the step for about five minutes before placing my hand on the doorknob.

It was open. I slowly walked around the open space. It was dark, but slivers of light were peaking through a few boarded windows. The first floor was empty except for the mildly furnished kitchen. There was a door that lead to the basement. I headed up at the second floor where I assumed he was. It was even darker and had three rooms. It looked abandoned, but surprisingly smelt very good...like tree bark or evergreen. There was a bathroom door which was closed, so I walked pass it. The other two rooms were open and were pretty much empty. The last door on the right was shut, but I decided to open it. It was as empty as the others, except for a large bed at one end of the room, across from the door where I was standing, and a tattered nightstand. The windows in this room weren't boarded. Curtains blew softly through the wind . I walked over and stood beside the bed. I ran my fingers over the soft silk. I thought it was odd that someone like him would have them.

"Where the hell are you?", I asked under my breath.

There was a large pitcher of water, an empty glass and a newspaper on the stand. I touched my hand to the pitcher and realized it was ice cold.

"What do you think you're doing?" I jumped and bumped my leg on the table. "Shit!"

The man was sitting in a chair in the far back of the room, his face covered with a cloth and concealed in the dark. Was he watching me this whole time? I hadn't even noticed.

"I'm sorry, I..." I couldn't find the right words. I wanted him to know that I meant no harm. "Your mask...I have it..." I took a step forward as I took off my bag and unzipped it.

"Stop," he commanded. It was more of a whisper though. His voice sounded strained

He stood slowly as I reached into my bag. That's when I noticed he was no longer wearing his robe, but a black wife-beater and dark grey cargo pants. His biceps were surprisingly large for someone in his psychical state. They weren't massive, but they weren't twigs either.

I could tell he easily towered over me. I still couldn't see his face, but I could tell there was something that was off. I held out the mask. He didn't move, face still in the shadows.

"Put it down." I looked around and then, placed it on the nightstand. Just then, I noticed there was another entrance to the room. The door way must have lead to another part of the house. It was open. I assumed it lead to one of the rooms I had passed.

"Leave." I was uncomfortable being here, but still slightly hurt by his lack of gratitude.

"Right...of course...OK." I turned and headed downstairs. I sighed. I couldn't leave, not yet. I stopped at the foot of the stairs.

I could hear footsteps above my head. The floorboards creaked with the weight as he walked. I moved out of sight as I saw the masked man go into the bathroom. I heard the cabinet open. I began to pace back and forth.

I waited until he walked back into the room. I took my backpack off and left it at the foot of the stairs. Then, I crept back upstairs. I decided to confront him. This time I came through one of the entrances from the other room.

He was sitting on the end of his bed...head down.

"I..."

He looked up. That's when I noticed the mask on his face. I halted...the words caught in my throat as I saw him with it for the first time and I found that I couldn't look away. How did it work? What exactly did it do, anyway? Most importantly, Why did he need it?

I quickly shook myself out of my trance. I had to say what I came here for. I cleared my throat.

"You know...I risked a lot coming here and following you. It's really late and I could have been attacked. I mean...I returned your stupid mask... The least you can say is thank you."

For a moment, he seemed stunned by my boldness. He composed himself, but still just looked at me.

I don't even know why I snapped at him. It wasn't like me. Normally, I would be too shy to say anything. Maybe, it was because I was so terribly lonely. I didn't want to leave without talking to him first.

"I'm waiting." I said, trying to sound confident. With this stranger, I could act like I was self-assured, even if I wasn't. The way his eyes flickered, I would have thought him to be smiling. If only I could have seen underneath his mask.

Finally he spoke. "I apologize, I thank you for taking the time out of your day to help me." Hearing him speak with the mask for the first time startled me a little. His voice was odd, almost robotic, but I nodded. "You're welcome." I didn't know what to do or say next so I entered the room.

I could see him tense up as I moved, so I walked over and sat down to the chair he was sitting in earlier. He watched me as I walked and stared at me again. Everything I did seemed to put him on edge. I kind of liked it.

"What?" I asked.

"You logic humors me," he said.

"My logic?"

"You would enter a strange man's home at night...someone you have never met, but then complain about how unsafe it is to be out this late."

I smiled, embarrassed. "Right..."

"You are lonely," he said matter-of-factly. I felt like I should have been offended, but I wasn't. It was kinda true. I was alone all the time. I was an outsider in this country, like he was. I could tell. I wasn't from here and I assumed neither was he.

I stayed in a small secluded house with two others... Chris, an Australian drifter who loved the outdoors and Eleanor, a 32-year-old English woman who was here to study the culture. We were friendly enough, but didn't really interact much outside the house. Chris and Eleanor hung out a lot though. They were both a few years older than I was...much more cultured. They'd seen the world. They discussed things like art and religion and film... and seemed to know about everything and they encouraged me to partake in their discussions...which I politely denied. I had no intention of embarrassing my self.

I preferred being alone anyway. At least that's what I thought. I liked walking alone...I liked going to the market alone, but tonight I found myself in a stranger's home, unable to leave for some reason.

"So are you," I stated.

He looked away, then back at me. I shifted uncomfortably under his glare.

For a man in his state, he was very confident and didn't hesitate to look me in the eyes. I knew that look in his eyes. He was looking at me like he was trying to figure me out. There was nothing to figure out. I was boring, but him on the other hand was like an exotic puzzle that I so badly wanted to piece together...because once I did... I knew it would surprise me. I saw a light in his eyes...but a darkness as well.

I mean, I knew he lived alone but I didn't think he was crazy or anything. In fact, he seemed very intelligent by the way he spoke. I imagined he'd seen the world as well, but under different circumstances. Not as an enthusiastic tourist who wanted to soak up all the culture, but as something else.

He got up and picked up the pitcher. He poured a glass and handed it to me before walking over to the window.

"You're not strange," I called out.

"Excuse me?" He turned around to face me.

"I said I don't think you're that strange."

That was a complete lie, I thought. He was the strangest person I had met in my entire life, but strange in a good way and I wanted to know more about him. He looked away, before turning back around.

"I'm sorry about what those men did to you. I wish I could have helped you."

"Why are you are apologizing for something you had no control over?" he asked me, while he continued to stare out the window.

I grinned. "I don't know...I mean, isn't that what you're suppose to say. People say it to be nice, I guess. I am sorry though."

"You shouldn't do something just because other people do it. People can be wrong, you know."

I felt like I was in school and being lectured and I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

"I know that...I just meant that I feel bad for you...about what they did."

"Don't pity me, my friend. Pity the men who pick on the weak without any justification. You should never harm someone unless you have good reason to."

I nodded before I thought about what he had just said. What exactly did he define as a good reason?

"Have you?" I asked, after a moment.

"Have I what?"

"Have you ever harmed someone?"

He said nothing, but I assumed that was a "yes". He turned and walked away from the window, past me, near the closet at the opposite side of the room. That's when I noticed the scar on his neck. He seem to have suffered an injury, but that wasn't the only one. There was something about the way he walked. His core was weak. It must have been a recent thing because even though he was weak, he walked with such strength and authority as I assumed he had before. He stumbled still, but demanded my attention with every step he took. His whole demeanour had changed now that he was wearing the mask. Also the slight muscles helped.

The cold wind whipped though the air and I shivered. I looked outside at the moon, then at my watch. It really was pretty late.

"I should get going." I stood on my feet quickly. I looked around for my bag, before remembering I had left it by the stairs.

"No." I turned around and looked at him, confused.

"Stay," he told me simply.

"Um..." Was he really asking me to stay? I wasn't so sure it was a good idea.

"You were right." He continued. "It isn't safe for a woman to be out at this time of night. You should stay here."

I looked at my watch again, before nodding. He was right. It was probably safer for me in here, than out there.

"You can sleep in here."

"No..." I protested. "I can't take your bed. I shouldn't have even came out this late anyway. It's my own fault. I could have left the mask at your door or I could have come in the morning..." I laughed. "Even though that would be impossible because I would have had no idea where you lived." I mumbled under my breath.

"I just thought it might be important," I added.

"It is."

He continued. "Or perhaps you could have caught up with me. It would have saved me the agonizing walk home."

"Sorry about that." I blushed. Why the hell didn't I do that?

I was nervous about asking him the next question. I barely managed louder than a whisper. "What exactly does it do?" I looked up at him, but I don't think he heard me. He was deep in thought.

There was a silence.

"I can sleep in the next room.", he added as he turned around to leave.

"Are you sure..." I started. I knew there was no bed in there. "I can..."

He ignored me and headed through the doorway in the back. He shut the door and left me alone in the dark room.


	4. The Man Who Lives Here Part 1

When I woke, my vision was blurred. I had no idea where I was. I quickly rubbed eyes.

I knew I was in a room, but it looked nothing like my room at home. Then, I remembered. The man from last night...I can't believe I actually stayed in his house. If my mom found out, she'd give me hell.

I looked around the room.

The room was a lot brighter now. It looked nicer. I could see the sun shining through the drapes. I looked down. My knapsack was at the foot of the bed, though I remembered I had left it by the stairs. I got up and stretched. I picked up my bag and slung it over one shoulder. I picked up my sandals and slipped them on.

I walked into the room beside mine, but it was empty. I assumed he was downstairs. I wanted to thank him before I left.

I decided to go to the bathroom and wash my face. When I walked in, I noticed an unopened toothbrush and toothpaste. I smiled. I was sure I would need it. It would make it less awkward to speak to him with morning breath.

I turned on the tap and splashed water on my face. I wiped the crust from my eyes and began brushing my teeth.

When I got downstairs I realized that the windows, that were previously boarded up with wood, worked as some sort of contraption. Last night they seemed to be shut, but now they were open and they filled the room with a rich sunlight.

The kitchen was also empty, so I continued out the door. He wasn't there either. So I decided to leave. I didn't want to over stay my welcome. I also wanted to avoid the awkward "thanking the strange man for letting me sleep over" part.

I got all the way down the steps when I noticed an old Moroccan man walking up the path. I stopped. He had a brown bag full of groceries with him.

He finally reached. "As-salām 'alaykum."

He smiled, then asked if I spoke Arabic.

"No...I'm sorry. Not very much," I replied.

He nodded.

"I work for the man who lives here...Bane I go to the markets for him." He had a thick arabic accent when he spoke.

Bane, I thought. So that was his name.

"My name is Aasir." He extended his hand to me.

"Natalie", I replied as I shook his hand.

"I've rarely seen anyone visit. Are you a friend?" He asked me.

"No. I just returned something to him, yesterday."

"OK. OK." He looked around. "Is he awake...can you tell him that yesterday, I couldn't go to the market...my wife was sick, but I went for him this morning."

"So that's why he was out..." I mumbled to myself. The man Bane, obviously didn't go out by himself. He couldn't without drawing attention to himself. He had hired this man to go shopping for him.

"Can you give this bag to him?" He asked.

"Oh, sure. Of course." I smiled and held out my arms.

I took the bag from him and placed it on the front steps, before walking back down to the man. He was turning around to leave, but I wanted to ask him something.

"What do you know about him...," I asked. "The man who lives here?"

He stopped. "He keeps to himself mostly. You are the first new visitor he has had."

"What do you mean, new? Wait, someone else comes to visit him?"

"He only has one friend...a companion who stays here sometimes."

"Someone else lives here?" I didn't see or hear anyone when I went inside. That's strange, I thought. Was there someone in the house that I didn't know about?

"He comes and goes. Very busy."

I just nodded.

"I have to go, but please give Bane my apologies."

"Of course."

"Wait...Sir?" I lowered my voice. "Can you tell me about the mask. Why does he wear it?"

Then, Aasir was about to speak, but he stopped when he glanced at something behind him. I noticed it then too.

A man was walking up the path. He wore cargo pants that were similar to Bane's. What was with these guys and cargo pants, anyway? He also wore a dark grey t-shirt. He had shaggy dark brown hair and a beard.

He ignored Aasir, who I assumed he knew, and walked past him looking directly at me. He gave a few glances then towards the house. His blue eyes flared with curiosity, but his face stayed expressionless. Aasir had moved out-of-the-way, giving him the space to stop right in front of me. Too close for my comfort. He stared right into my eyes. Still he was stone-faced as he looked me up and down. He wasn't trying to hide it.

"Hi," I smiled, trying to seem friendly because this was probably the other man who lived here. He looked capable enough. I wondered why Bane didn't have this man do his shopping instead of Aasir. Unless he served a different purpose...

He had that same look Bane had. He was trying to figure me out. I hated that.

"Hello," He smiled back, but it was more calculating, than sincere. Of course he was wondering what I was doing here.

"Um...your friend...he was hurt..."

He nodded and smiled as I spoke, but I don't think he heard me. I thought maybe he didn't understand me, but then I remembered that when he said hello, I had heard no accent.

Now I was completely positive that he was wondering what in the world I was doing here.

"And I was just..." I began.

We were interrupted by the sound of heavy breathing and a figure appeared in the doorway. We all turned. I noticed the man took a few steps away from me.

"Bane." I breathed. I was acknowledging him, as well as testing out his name on my lips for the first time. It fell from my lips with ease.

"Good Morning." he said. He was wearing a long brown robe. Like what the older men here sometimes wore.

"Morning." Aasir and the man seemed to say in unison.

"I'll see you inside." Bane said, obviously to the man in front of me.

He nodded, but smirked at me before doing as he was told.

Bane stepped out from the doorway and made his way to me. He was the closest he'd ever been to me. So close, I could feel the heat radiating from his body as he looked down on me.

I tried to keep my cool. "Um, who was that?" I asked, gesturing to the door.

"His name is Barsad."

"And he's a friend...?"

"Yes. A very trusted associate. I suppose you could say." A saw a flash of a smile in his eyes.

"Oh...OK" I said, uncomfortably turning my eyes away from him. He never looked away from me once, so I tried to do the same, but failed miserably.

He noticed the bag over my shoulder, but didn't say anything.

"Um, I..."

"Mr. Bane...Mr Bane." Bane finally looked away from me and at Aasir. I almost forgot about him. He was watching us talk this whole time. Bane walked over to him.

"Sorry. I could not go yesterday. You see my wife...she was sick." He began. " I bring you the groceries today."

He laid his hand on Aasir's shoulder."It's alright, brother. No worries. I thank you."

Aasir noticed the bruises that lined his chest, as did I, for the first time. "You're hurt." He said.

"I said no worries. I've experienced worse."

"OK..OK...I will take them in for you." He brushed past us and grabbed them from the steps. I wasn't sure if he was very eager to help people or just scared of Bane because of his mask...probably a little of both. I would be too.

Bane slowly made his way back up the steps, so I followed.

The man nodded at Bane, then me. "Have a good day," Then he was on his way.

We were alone in the kitchen. Bane began unpacking the groceries and I stood patiently leaning against the wall, until he finished. His groceries were similar to mine, but he had things like tea and eggs and meat, which he put in the fridge right away. He seemed to go on about his day, like I wasn't even there, putting things away and washing produce. He put the kettle on the stove before finally seating himself around a small rectangular table, but me, I was still thinking about that man who came here earlier. Where was he now?

"You were planning to leave?" He looked up at me with a questioning expression. I think he was disappointed that I would leave without saying goodbye.

"Oh...yeah. Well, I didn't want to overstay my welcome. My roommates are probably wondering where I am, anyway."

"Roommates," he repeated, calmly.

"Yeah...roommates."

"OK, then." I smiled shyly, and was about to turn around.

"Stay. You're joining me for breakfast."

I looked at him, though I couldn't pretend like I didn't want to. There was still so much I wanted to know. "Sure. Why not?" I replied, though I'm pretty sure it wasn't a question.


	5. The Man Who Lives Here Part 2

"Have a seat. Would you like some tea?" He got up.

"No, I can get it."

"No you're the guest. Sit."

"Oh...OK." I sighed and waited. I took off my bag and put it down beside the table. "My name's Natalie, by the way."

He paused a moment at hearing my name, before continuing. He placed the steaming mug in front of me. "Thanks."

He turned around and proceeded to turn on the stove and take out a frying pan. He started frying some eggs. I reached across the table for the sugar.

I was determined to ask him all the questions I could without actually being face to face. I don't think I could handle being under his gaze for too long. I wasn't scared of him or anything. It was just that he could be very intimidating for a man I saw get beat up not too long ago. I took a deep breath.

"Can I ask you something?" I stopped. "I don't mean to sound rude but, your mask - why do you wear it?" I had never met anyone like him before. He wore that mask and obviously stayed hidden for a reason. I mean - people could be cruel, but I also wondered if it was more than that.

Again, he paused in the middle of what he was doing. I hoped I hadn't offended him.

But he answered, "So I don't feel pain."

He inhaled deeply, then began again. "I suffered a mutilation. Without the mask, the pain would - is - unbearable."

"So before - that's what you meant by agonizing..."

I continued. "If I'd have known -" I could see that he had finished cooking so I stopped. He put a plate in front of me, as well as bread. There was no plate for himself. He just sat down across from me. I froze up, for he was now looking at me - waiting for me to finish my sentence.

I began again. "If I'd known, I would have run after you - instead of walking like an idiot. Crap! I feel horrible now."

He said nothing. I then realized if he was going to eat, he wouldn't be doing it in front of me.

"Can I ask you something else?"

"Eat first."

"OK." I reached into the bread basket and took out two slices. I scooped my egg between the slices and took a bite.

* * *

 

A few moments later, Barsad entered the room. As he did, Bane got up without hesitation and walked over to him. Him and Bane exchanged some words that were too quiet for me to hear. Bane nodded at whatever he was saying.

I sat quietly and finished my tea.

After they spoke, they backed away from each other.

"I'll be back in a moment." Bane said simply, as he walked out

Barsad was leaning against the counter. I assumed he was waiting. I could feel him watching me. Since we were alone in the room, I took the opportunity to try to get to know him.

I got up with my plate and mug and walked over to the sink. I looked up at him. "So - is it your job to wash the dishes then?" I asked, teasingly.

"I don't do that, sweetheart." He smirked as he leaned farther back on the counter.

"Why not?" I paused - serious this time. "So what do you do then?"

"Don't you worry about that, " he replied, smiling at me in a peculiar way.

"OK..." I placed my dish in the sink. Whatever he did, I had a feeling it was something important. I walked to the table, picked up my bag and slung it over my shoulder.

I was heading to the doorway, when I stopped and turned to Barsad. He stood in the same spot but was now glancing out the window - still waiting for Bane, I guess.

"Um, could you tell Bane I said thanks and that I had to leave?"

He turned to me and grinned. "Tell him yourself." I think he must have thought I was scared of Bane and was probably laughing at my reluctance to tell him I was leaving, myself. I wasn't scared though, just wanted to avoid the awkward "thanks and goodbye".

"OK, then." I said. He looked hesitant as I turned around to go.

"Hey, just wait for him to come upstairs, though." he said.

I continued on my way and left to look for Bane.

That's when I noticed a light as I walked towards the basement door.

I quietly opened the door and called out. "Bane?"

I started heading down the steps, unsure if he heard me. There were a lot of them and what I presumed was a few more after the turning coming up.

"Bane," I said louder. "I think I'm gonna take off..." I took a few more, but I bumped into him before I made it all the way downstairs.

"Hey..."

He watched me nervously. "That's fine. I'll see you on your way out." He gestured towards upstairs.

Then, I looked behind him at a wall covered with pictures and newspaper clippings. There was a desk down there covered with papers and even a laptop with a freaking wi-fi box and everything. I guessed there must have been a TV down there as well. What kind of recluse was he? Most of the rooms had little to no furniture. Why was this one so high-tech?

He started to move, so I had no choice but to do the same.

I hesitantly turned around and headed back the way I had came. When we reached the top of the stairs we continued silently until we got out the front door.

I wanted to ask what all that was - but I didn't think I had the right. After all I had just met him and he was still a stranger. Maybe that was what he did for a living. He had to earn money somehow right? Maybe he worked for the CIA like in Homeland. I doubted they would hire some guy with a weird mask anyway...

I turned around. "Thank you for letting me stay the night - and for breakfast. I mean you didn't have to...so thanks."

"It was no trouble, really." He stood in the doorway, the door slightly closed. He probably wanted me to hurry up and get lost.

"Well, I'm glad." I folded my arms. What did I do next? Leave?

"Do you live far?" He asked me.

"Oh, no. I'm like 20 mins away by train I think."

I nodded, unsure if it was OK to leave now.

I started down the path. Then, I turned around to see him still by the door. "Maybe I'll see you around." I told him.

He nodded, but he probably thought it was unlikely since he didn't go out much. The chances of me seeing him "around" were close to impossible...unless I came to him...

"Maybe." He added.

Then, I continued walking, knowing that he would still be watching me until I was out of sight.


	6. Older Bloke With a Limp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Longer than usual.

I arrived at home to see my roommates Eleanor and Chris sitting on the front steps, basking in the sunlight.

Chris squinted up at me as I approached. "Well look who it is." He said as he rubbed sweat off the top of his cropped dark blond hair.

Eleanor moved from leaning with her elbows on the step and her head back - to sitting upright and grinning. Her long brown locks were flowing in the breeze. She had a cup of tea beside her of course, like the English woman she was. She opened her eyes barely, just enough to see who was in front of her. She smiled as she placed her right hand over her eyes for shade. Eleanor was in a peach a plaid shirt and jeans, while Chris was wearing a white tank top and shorts that showed off his hairy blond leg hairs.

"Hey!" I called out as I reached them.

"And where were you, Miss Donovan?" Eleanor asked. "I got worried when you didn't come home last night." She sounded more like my mother than my roommate who I had only just met two and a half months ago.

All three of us had met on the plane ride over here - and it was pure luck that we were the only non-Moroccans in that section of the plane and happened to be sitting close to each other. Chris and I sat beside each other, while Eleanor was in front sitting beside an old woman who didn't speak, so she was always turning round to chat with us. We talked for most of the plane ride, and when we got to the airport, I was on my way to find a hotel while Chris was about to go to some bar(at least that's what he said. It wasn't until Eleanor had stopped us and said she had a place and would let us stay with her and we could split the rent if we helped her get a cab. So we got her a cab - and the rest is history I guess.

"Yeah. She thought we'd find you dead somewhere," Chris added.

She elbowed him and smiled. "Oh be quiet." Then, she turned to me. "I didn't think that at all Natalie," she told me.

"That's good to know." I replied. I walked over and took a seat beside them, on what little space there was left on the step, so I was no longer blinding their eyeballs by standing right where the sun was shining. Eleanor took her cup up in her hand.

"No, really. where were you?" She asked, turning to me.

I took a deep breath and contemplated what and how much I should tell them. Or how much I wanted to tell them.

"With a friend," I replied. It wasn't a lie - just very vague.

"I thought you didn't know anyone in Morocco?" Eleanor asked, still watching me curiously.

She was right. On the way over here, I mentioned that I didn't know anyone from here and was just going for the experience. It was true...at the time.

"Well, I guess I do now." I shrugged.

"Well, excuse me?" She was smiling now. I just grinned. I knew what she was thinking and a part of me wanted her to believe that I had been reckless and hooked up with some random Moroccan hunk - even when I hadn't. Honestly, I wasn't that kind of person. I was more of a relationship kinda girl.

I got up from the steps and made my way inside.

"You didn't have a one-nightstand, did you?" I turned around to see that Eleanor had followed me inside. "Not judging if you did." She added.

I shook my head as I walked over to the kitchen table. "Uh - no. Sorry to disappoint." I unzipped by bag and began taking the things out.

"Really - then what happened?" She asked.

"It's a long story - but it's not as interesting as you might think." I continued. "The guy I met just didn't want me to be out so late at night."

"Oh..." Eleanor teased. "He didn't want you to be out late? How sweet."

"Not like that - well, he was hurt and I helped bring him back something he left behind somewhere. Then he let me stay in his place."

"Oh." Eleanor looked like she was disappointed my story wasn't any more interesting than that.

"Yeah.." I sighed. "I'm tired so I'm going back to bed. I'll see you both later then."

I left the kitchen and headed upstairs to where my room was on the left. It was small, but cozy. I had a bed, a small nightstand beside it, a dresser, a closet and a small TV. The bathroom was right across from me so that was good.

I undid my ponytail, letting my straight brown locks fall against my back. Then I took off my shirt and my teal maxi skirt. I leaped under my covers in only a tank top and my underwear. I didn't fall asleep yet. I just lay on my tummy and stared at my suitcase lying in the corner. There were still some things in there that I hadn't even unpacked yet. Just reminding of how scared I was.

How I was unready to commit to being here at all.

I came here on a whim and I was glad for the experience, but I was also scared of the unknown. Of being away my family, my friends. Scared that if I ever needed help or got kidnapped or needed money that I couldn't reach them for whatever reason. That's what freaked me out.

How long have I been here? About two and a half months since I left Michigan. I was living in a house with people I just met. It was stupid, but it was Eleanor's place and she seemed like one of those free-spirit types. Plus she was a teacher, so of course I trusted her. Chris seemed nice enough at first, but I couldn't really be sure. I promised myself if anything weird happened I would lock my door and sneak out the second floor window. That was two and a half months ago and I haven't locked my door once so I must be safe.

This had been a rewarding experience so far. The food and the sights were great and something told me that with Bane here, it was only about to get better. I would find out more about him and more about whatever he had going on in that basement. I got up and took a shower, before I eventually drifted to sleep with that thought still on my mind. Bane and his stupid basement.

A few hours later at around noon, I was awaken by soft tapping on the door.

"Knock. Knock." The person said.

"Come in," I called out, after making sure my bare ass was concealed under the sheets.

Chris slowly opened the door and stepped inside. "Hey, how are?" He whispered hoarsely, sounding like he had been sleeping as well.

"I'm good." I rubbed my eyes and smiled up at him. "You?"

"Fine, thanks." He answered."Did I wake you?"

"No, not really." I lied. "You wanted to talk?"

"Yeah...So..." He came over and squatted himself down on my bed. "What's this I hear about you dating an older bloke with a limp?"

"Did Eleanor tell you that?" I sat up immediately. "Well then one of you need to get your ears cleaned. I'm not dating anyone. I just met someone - and he definitely does NOT have a limp. He walks fine. A little slow, but -"

"But you stayed at his place, right?" Chris asked, peering up at me, his voice lower than usual. There was something about the tone of his voice, but I shrugged it off.

"Yeah...I stay in the same house as you and we're friends. Why can't I just be friends with a guy?"

"Good point. Never mind then." He replied.

I laughed, leaning back on the palms of my hands. "Anyway if you knew him, you wouldn't say that about him. He isn't just some guy." I began. "He's more than that. There's something about him and I don't even know how to explain it you." Well how could I mention that the man whose house I crashed at barely left the house, wore a strange mask on his face and had a secret basement lair. You couldn't just tell someone that without alarming them about your odd choice in friends.

"I'm not sure I'm following you." Chris finally said in confusion. "You don't like him that way, but -"

"I know it sounds odd, but I don't know." I shrugged. "I'm not in love or anything. Plus he isn't exactly someone I would date or even consider dating" I paused. "Just someone I want to get to know."

"No, I do understand." He offered. "Once I met a guy back in Sydney when I was out surfing with some mates. He was an older guy..a little off, but he was cool as hell. Worked on a farm. Anyway, when I met him I knew right away... this is the kinda guy I'd like to bend the elbow with... this is the kinda guy I'd like to get to know. After that we met up every weekend to ride waves..Not anymore though I guess." He shrugged. He did mention that he never stayed in places long, not even his hometown.

"Yeah, sorta like that." I smiled at him, musing at his awkward mix of American and Aussie slang. I guess he did sort of understand. For some reason, every time I saw Chris, I suddenly had an image in my head of him in the outback, wrestling crocodiles with his shirt off.

"Hey!" His voice brought me back to reality."Are you just smiling coz of my accent?" He accused with a grin. "I need to know."

"No - well, partially." I laughed. I did that a lot to him. "I'm sorry... but I do love accents." I replied.

* * *

 

**{Bane's Residence - Basement}**

"She won't be a distraction, will she?" Barsad walked up behind his comrade who was seated at the wooden desk in front of the bulletin board. Bane was looking at large photographs, taken discreetly be a colleague, of a man they both believed to be dead.

Bane knew he meant Natalie.

"To you or to me?" Bane asked in jest. For the most part it was a joke, but Bane also knew Barsad had been quite taken with the girl... Right from the moment he saw them staring at each other at the front of the house this morning.

Barsad laughed. "To both of us I guess." He started off. "She is pretty cute." He rested his hand flat on the table's surface.

"She's just intrigued," Bane began, still transfixed by the photos. "They're all intrigued by that they don't understand."

"How did you meet her anyway?"

"She came to me." Bane replied.

"She said you were hurt, is that true?" Barsad asked.

"Yes," Bane replied, absentmindedly. Bane put the pictures in a folder and shoved them away. He didn't want to look at them any longer.

"Damn Arab should of done his job." Barsad barked. For a moment, Bane had forgotten what they were speaking upon. "You shouldn't have been out that night." Barsad shook his head.

"It's not his fault. It's mine. I shouldn't have gone anyway." But he did and whatever made him decide to, part of him was glad he had. His encounter with those men may have been unfortunate, but meeting the girl might not have been too bad. He did enjoy what little interaction he got to have with someone besides Barsad and Aasir for a change. "They tried to steal my mask in the fight." He added in contemplation. There was only ever one mask made and he knew what the consequences would be if it was ever lost.

Bane rose and walked over to the right side of the bulletin where a picture of Talia was pinned. It reminded him of why he had to hold on. It's the slow knife, he thought...the knife that takes it's time...

"Did they know what it was?" Barsad questioned about the mask. He watched Bane pause as he was about to trail his hand over the photo.

Bane blinked, trying to erase thoughts of Talia from his mind. He turned away briskly and went back to his seat. "No - but she was thoughtful enough to return it."

"Natalie," Barsad breathed. It was half question, half statement and Bane wondered why Barsad was inclined to recite her name aloud as though he didn't already know the "she" he was referring to. Bane now sat still in the chair, his arms clenched forward on the flat surface, not really looking at anything. Barsad eased his hand off of the desk to give him the space.

"And what... she just invited herself to stay the night?" Barsad continued.

"No that was my doing," Bane replied.

"Be careful, You might not be able to get her to leave... If you want to that is?" Barsad added brazenly.

Bane's arms tensed. Now that it was just the two of them and Bane no longer had an army, Barsad was becoming much more casual in his tone. Especially when speaking of the girl. Maybe Barsad thought they were equal now. Bane wasn't sure exactly what he thought of it yet.

"She seems like a nice girl, but we do not want her in the way." Bane said immediately.

Barsad nodded in agreement. "By the way, I sent her to look for you this morning. Did she find you before she left?"

"I met her on my way up from the basement."

"Did she see anything?" He asked, running his hand nervously through a patch of his hair.

"I don't believe so." Even if she had, Bane knew she would have no idea what all of this information was for anyway.

Barsad changed the topic. "OK, so I set up a meeting with that guy about a certain someone's whereabouts."

Bane finally looked away from the wall and turned to face Barsad. "He has the information we need?" Bane's fists were now quietly trembling with a mix of anger and anticipation.

"Yes - I just need to pick up the package with the device first." Barsad told him.

"When?" Bane asked, flatly.

"We're meeting up tomorrow morning."

* * *

**{Natalie}**

Some time later, I woke up to the sound of heavy bass jazz music flooding my ears. It was lucky that we didn't live too close to anyone.

Outside was dark, but I had no idea what time it was. I strained my eyes to see what time the clock on the wall read. 5:45. I must have been really tired, I mused to myself.

The music continued. I assumed it was Eleanor having one of her artsy painting sessions.

I walked down the steps, still just in my undies. Only to reach the foot of the stairs, turn my head and see that there were people in the kitchen and dining room. Talking, laughing, drinking, eating. I turned on the balls of my feet and sprinted back up the steps.

They were have a freaking dinner party?! What the hell! I hastily changed into something more suitable. Jeans and a tank top. Bum fully covered.

Of course I wanted to confront them about about the major thing they forgot to mention to me, but they were nowhere to be found. The couch and kitchen chairs were filled with people I didn't know or care to know so I just filled myself a plate of food, grabbed a beer and found a spot on the floor hoping not to be stepped on.

It was about ten o' clock at night when I thought I saw Eleanor's brown hair, now up in a bun, bobbing out the front door.

"Eleanor!" I called out, as I got up of the floor, my legs way past numb. Plus the three extra alcoholic beverages I had were not helping.

"Hey!" A man stopped me by reaching out for my shoulder. He was white with long red hair and standing with a darker-skinned woman, a drink in his hand. "Me and a few others were talking about sharing a cab home later. You interested?" The man asked.

"It's OK. I live here actually." I corrected him. So not only did Chris and El have a party and not tell me, they also did not bother to mention to anyone that they had a roommate.

"Oh me too. I live just down the street," The olive-skinned woman interjected, her glassy hazel eyes lighting up.

That was not what I meant. "No, I mean I live in this house actually." I told her.

"Really? Since when?" the man scoffed in disbelief.

"What was your name again?" The woman asked, clearly tipsy, but then again, so was I.

"Natalie," I replied.

"Oh wait, I know who she is!" The woman said to the man, then turned back to me. "Are you the American teenager girl they took in?" The woman asked.

Teenager girl? I was twenty frickin two years old. Chris was only six years older than I was. Were they really acting like I was some charity case? Nobody took me in. I was invited here - same as Chris was.

"No one took me in." I shouted, angrily.

The couple just looked back and forth at each other.

Just then, a slightly off-balance Chris came up from the basement, his short blond tresses swaying by his chin. Some blond girl in a short dress was on his arm. She frowned when he stopped.

"Oh...hey Nat." Chris said.

"Really?" I asked, turning towards him, assuming he had heard.

"Come on. It was just a joke." He said.

"Sure it was." I said, biting my lip. "I'm leaving," I told him. I wasn't really leaving, I was just being dramatic when I was really going to sit out in the shed.

"Don't be like that." he shrugged out from underneath the blond's arm and began following me.

"What else do you two say behind my back, huh?" I exclaimed.

"No one was talking behind your back. They were kidding."

I was almost completely out the door, when he grabbed me by the arm. I turned around to yell at him, but instead just fell under his hard gaze. Then I noticed his latest conquest standing behind him looking drunk and confused. My eyes drifted down to her bare pink painted toes.

I turned back to Chris. "Your friend is waiting." He reluctantly let go of my arm just as I yanked it away.

That was weird, I noted as I walked out past the garden. We had never had a moment like that before. We barely talked about things didn't revolve around who was doing the shopping or what good protein options him and Eleanor thought of for dinner or what sight I should visit when I get the time. Come to think of it, he has never randomly decided to chat with me for no reason, like earlier when he came to my room.

I continued walking till I got to the shed. I wondered what Bane was doing at this moment...or what Barsad was. I may not have known much about Bane, but at least he never treated me like I was inferior just because of my age. Like he needed to educate me.

He actually saw...whatever he did see in me. Not like I needed to be perfected by knowing about arts and music...or politics... or how to make Ma'amoul because this lovely Moroccan woman from class taught him how to make it.

I sighed. So this is what the rest of my night would look like. Me - sitting alone in a dirty shed with a dusty bottom. I probably should have brought my flip flops because my feet were now covered in dirt.

I turned my head toward the sound of the shed being tugged open. It was Eleanor.

"Chris told me you were upset. Said that you hate us." she said as she came inside, leaving the door open so we wouldn't be in complete darkness.

"Did he now?" I asked, stubbornly.

She came over and took a seat beside me. I felt bad for having her get her green peplum dress dirty for me. "Look, they probably just misinterpreted." She said looking at me.

"I was probably a little tipsy when I snapped anyway." I replied, solemnly. That and just tired. I was just tired of not being enough for people. I guess I sort of expected them to automatically be saying bad things about me. I could never keep friends for a long period of time anyway. Every one usually just left. Truth was, if I had never met Chris or Eleanor, I would probably be alone in some cheap hotel or probably even at home. There is no way I would have lasted this long in a foreign country if I was all alone.

"So... I said, looking up."Why didn't either of you tell me about the stupid party, then?" I asked.

"You didn't know?" She asked, seemingly in disbelief.

"No I didn't." I said loudly.

"Well we just planned it the day before. Anyway, I told Chris to tell you."

"And did you think he would?" I raised an eyebrow at her.

"Right..." Eleanor shook her head. "The same man who forgets and leaves the stove on when he goes out for a bike ride." She slapped her palm to her forehead. "So sorry."

"It's fine now." I told her.

Neither of us said anything for a couple of seconds.

"Tomorrow if you want, we can to the shops...get some cool stuff...some clothes." She offered with a smile. "By the way, this is NOT me trying to win you over, I'm saying this as your friend...we are friends right?"

"Yeah of course." I nodded. I wanted us to be more than just roommates who occasionally spoke to each other whenever we entered and left the house. I wanted to be as close to her as Chris was. We all met the same way, so there was no reason for me to feel the need to exclude myself as much as I did."Tomorrow..." I began. I didn't exactly have plans, but I knew I wanted to see Bane again. I just didn't know how to make that happen.

Who was he and why was he in Morocco living in that big empty house? I planned to go back there. I know I wanted to, I just didn't know when.

"Yeah, tomorrow's fine," I told her.


	7. Distraction

The next morning Eleanor and I left the house early, leaving Chris to nurse his hangover alone. He wouldn't have been up anyway, so we - Eleanor - just left a note saying we were going out.

The sun was beating down. It was less than a ten minute walk over to the medina. Djema el-Fna. I had never been before, but I assumed Eleanor had.

I was a lot calmer than I was last night and just wanted to forget the whole thing. We weren't mad at each other or anything - but we hadn't spoken since we got out of the house. The walk so far was silent.

I turned to Eleanor. "Hey El..." I began.

"Yes, sweetheart?" She asked, turning to me.

"I don't think I ever asked you why you had a house in Morocco anyway. Is that a usual thing for you...buying property in foreign countries?"

"Oh, no", she scoffed. "I'm not that rich. Anyway, I didn't buy it." Eleanor paused. "It's my husband's place."

So, Eleanor is married. How could I have not known that?

"Well my ex husband." She continued.

"Oh." So she was divorced. I still didn't know that. She certainly didn't seem like it, but how does one seem divorced anyway?

"His family's Moroccan, but he was born in England and when we divorced, I asked for the house here. The home he did business from occasionally. Instead of...anyway, I said he could have our home back in Liverpool. He didn't want it, so it was sold. He left me the profit...which I didn't expect." She trailed off.

"You didn't want it?" I asked. "The one in England?"

"No, I... I wanted to get away. Plus the place here is old and they were gonna sell it so...So that's why I signed up to teach English here instead. A fresh start. We had travelled down here a bunch of times anyway. I knew my way around...for the most part."

"I had no idea you were married." I mused aloud.

"I don't usually tell people right away." Eleanor laughed. "It wasn't even that long ago. The divorced had only been finalized a few weeks before we met on the plane."

"Oh," I said. It made me think back on our meeting in a whole different way. Eleanor was recently divorced and about to permanently move to a new place. I originally thought of her as one of those annoying overly happy travellers, but all she wanted was the company of two strangers when she probably felt at her lowest. It made me feel worse than I already did about all the things I assumed about her. She just cares a lot.

When we arrived at the medina, it was just a bustle of commotion. It was crowded with a lot of tourists and locals. There were storytellers...People trying to get you to buy their henna tattoos, juice, spices, carpets, or jewelry. Eleanor and I continued to walk and look around. We hadn't yet decided to stop anywhere.

"So tell me more about this man, the one who let you stay the night," She said with a cheeky grin.

She had answered some my invasive questions. I guess it was only fair I answered her.

"Well, I was on my way home from the store," I began." ...But then I saw there was this man who was being attacked by a bunch of ...thugs." I didn't know what to call them. I sort of shrugged like it was no big deal.

We were interrupted by men came over to us with a bunch of hand-made jewellery adorning their hands. "Ladies you buy...you buy," One said gesturing to a necklace.

"No thank you. I'm sorry, but no thank you." Eleanor kept repeating. She brushed them off as politely as she could. Typical Eleanor. "You didn't intervene, did you?" She asked me, as we continued walking.

"No, but after I followed him home to return something they tried to take from him. Uh, we talked for a bit at his place. I kind of left - sort of - then came back. Some time had passed and it got kind of late, so he let me stay the night. That's all. I barely know him."

"Oh, OK," was all she said.

"What?" I smiled at her, suspiciously.

"I didn't say anything." Eleanor shrugged.

I raised an eyebrow at her. "But you were thinking something?"

"Just that those seem like a very interesting series of events." She replied, grinning.

"They were," I agreed. "Last night was pretty interesting."

"But I do have one question." Eleanor began. "Are you planning on seeing this guy again?"

"I don't know, maybe." I lied. Than answer was yes, obviously. "Why? Would there be a problem if I did?" I asked her.

"I mean there has to be a reason he was attacked by thugs, right?" She asked. "So he probably isn't someone you want to get involved with."

"I don't even know that they were thugs. They were just guys who attacked some helpless man and who said anything about getting involved?" I asked, getting defensive.

"Get involved. Be friends. Whatever. It just - wouldn't be smart," she said.

I hated when Eleanor got this way. Her and Chris both were so preachy and all knowing and always going on about what's best for me. What books I should read, what historical sites I should see, what foods I should try, yada yada. It got tiring after a while no matter how good the intentions. I think I preferred the questions.

"Anyway the attack was just...random." I told her.

"You know that for sure?" She questioned.

I didn't, but I answered anyway. "Yeah. He 's an older guy. Late thirties- and he can barely walk." I embellished a bit so El would think Bane was more helpless than he really was . "Like I told you, he's injured."

"Oh, OK. My bad then. I just think you should just be smart about the whole thing."

"I think you're reading way too much into this." I said, shaking my head.

"I have a sixth sense about these things." Eleanor mused.

I began taking a closer look around. Looking for things like clothes, but I didn't see any of that at all. Just a lot of bodies. Perfect for disappearing into.

"Um, Eleanor. I don't think there's a lot of clothes shopping to do here," I noted.

"I think you're right," She said.

"I thought you've been here before. It's like less than an hour away from the house." I said to Eleanor.

"No I've only heard of it... I guess I just assumed." She laughed. "We can still look around though. There's still performances, and jewellery to buy I guess. We can go to the mall later if you want."

Passing a circle of tourists, I glanced down the medina as a familiar head of dark brown hair caught my eye by one of the alleyways. Barsad. What was he doing here? Bane couldn't have been with him, but he was standing with a man though.

"I'm going to go look at something. I'll be back, OK," I said to Eleanor, not even looking at her anymore. I was already starting to walk away.

"Yeah sure. I'll be over here getting some...orange juice I think," she called out.

I headed closer to Barsad and the man. I was too far to hear exactly what they was saying. The man he was with, a native probably, had walked away and it revealed saw a small brown paper package in Barsad's left hand the size of a VHS tape.

"Barsad." I called out as I approached. "Hey. What are you doing here?" I asked.

"Business, so leave me alone and go back to your little friend," he said, flipping me off. His eyes never met mine for more than a second. He kept glancing around like he was looking for someone.

I smiled a little, despite his tone. He knew I was with someone. So that must have meant he must have saw me since before I began walking over...and that he saw me trying to spy.

"Who was that guy you were with?" I asked like I had actually expected him to answer.

"I was right about you...fucking distraction," he said bitterly, finally looking down and facing me.

"Excuse me?" What did he mean he was right about me being a distraction? I don't know how I felt about them talking about me while I wasn't around.

"How about you stop worrying about what I do," He said. "If you know what's good for you," he added. "You shouldn't even be here."

"So I can't walk around in a public place?" I asked. I knew I probably shouldn't have been so bold in coming up to him when we had only just met and he was acting all sketchy, but I liked pushing his buttons. "Anyway, I was just making conversation. Why are you getting so defensive?"

"I'm not," He was fidgety with his hands in his pockets and kept looking off in the distance.

"Yeah you are. You have something to hide. You keep looking around."

When I said that, Barsad stopped looking around and instead looked deep into my eye with a cocky smile on his face that was neither kind nor sincere. He was trying to prove me wrong. He chuckled. "No, I do not."

"Well, whatever you say. This place is pretty boring, so I can't think of any other reason for you to be here anyway." I told him. "So where's Bane?"

"Getting a kebab. Where do you think?" Barsad spat back, sarcastically.

"Alright, I deserve that for asking such a dumb question." I said.

"Dammit," he said, still clutching the package in is hand.

"What is it?" I asked.

"I need to give this thing to Bane right away, but I'm supposed to meet someone first and he's late."

"Oh... Well I could give it to him if you want." I offered.

"No..." he began, shaking his head. "I don't think that's such a good idea."

"Honestly, it wouldn't be a problem." I tried to assure him.

"You really want to go?" He asked me, like he assumed I had something better to do.

"If it'll help Bane or whatever, then I'll do it. He's been...nice to me."

Barsad just looked at me for a moment. Then he spoke."Fine. Here. Just remember that I didn't force you to do anything and you tell him that."

What did that even mean, I wondered.

"You can go down there and give it to him, but don't even think about looking inside this thing," he warned me.

"I wont," I assured him again. "So you trust me then?" I asked after a moment.

"I'm very good at reading people," he told me. "So yeah, I think I can."

I wanted to tell him how wrong he was, but decided against it.

"Any chance you'll tell me what's in it?" I asked teasingly. I didn't really think he would.

"Don't make me change my mind about sending you," He smirked. "Hey, If you're lucky, maybe he'll let you take a peak inside."

I laughed. I doubted that, but at least I finally had a reason to see Bane again.

"Take this." Barsad went into his pocket and held out a small flip phone for me to take.

"Um, why?" I asked, taking it from him carefully.

"So I can call and make sure you actually delivered it..." he replied.

"I could just lie to you if I wanted," I reminded him.

"You won't," Barsad said with assurance.

"Also, can't you just call Bane?" I asked. "He has a phone right?"

"And to make sure nothing happens to you," he finished and shrugged, but he didn't meet my eyes.

"Oh... Thanks," I said quietly. It was nice to know that he was looking out for me. In today's world no one could really be safe.

"Yeah," he muttered, turning back to me. "The subway's that way." Barad said, pointing down the street. "Alright now get outta here,"

"I know...See you later." I walked away from him and looked around for Eleanor. I couldn't see her anywhere. I had almost forgotten about her. I would have to call her cell and tell her she can take off without me.

"Hey!" Barsad shouted from a distance.

I turned around. "What is it?" I called back.

"If you think this place's boring, come back here at night," he smirked. "It'll liven up a bit. I promise."


End file.
